from our balcony, Canareggio

On we went,

floating towards the heart of this strange place--

with water all about us where never water was elsewhere--

clusters of houses, churches, heaps of stately buildings growing out of it--

and, everywhere, the same extraordinary silence.

Presently, we shot across a broad and open stream;

and passing, as I thought,

before a spacious paved quay,

where the bright lamps with which it was illuminated

showed long rows of arches and pillars,

of ponderous construction and great strength,

but as light

to the eye as garlands of hoarfrost or gossamer--

and where, for the first time, I saw people walking-

arrived at a flight of steps

leading from the water to a large mansion,

where, having passed through corridors and galleries innumerable,

I lay down to rest;

listening to the black boats

stealing up and down below the window

on the rippling water,

till I fell asleep.

 

[from An Italian Dream, Chapter 7 by Charles Dickens]

 

Canareggio neighbourhood, Venice

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